November 30, 2010

One Year

A year ago last week I was sitting down at the Thanksgiving Day table, ready to shamelessly stuff my 10-months-pregnant face full of turkey, potatoes, and anything else that came within a few inches of my dinner plate. I knew, given the (hormonal) state I was in, that no one would dare question it or look down upon me for it. After all, I was eating for two, right? Besides, the very next day I was scheduled to have our second child surgically removed from me. That meant chicken broth and crackers, if I was lucky, so it only made sense that I needed to stockpile some Thanksgiving dinner in my gut to prepare myself for the long weekend.

And then Black Friday came - but instead of out shopping for $50 big screen TVs, I was settling into a hospital room, anxiously waiting to meet the son who would someday be begging for everything in that 2198281 page Toys 'R Us ad. He was unusually quiet that morning, zonked out on turkey no doubt, unaware that he was about to be unceremoniously removed from his warm cozy home. And at 9:40am on November 27th, 2009, out came Owen - all 10lbs, 3oz of him.

And now here we are, one year later. That fateful Friday seems almost a zillion light years ago, and yet - prepare yourself for a lame cliche - like it was just yesterday. I can hardly begin to describe what a roller coaster ride the past 365 days have been. And even though, thanks to Owen, I can drive an hour to the children's hospital blindfolded and backwards....and even though he cried when we tried to feed him cake and frosting...and even though some of his diapers smell like a dead zombie that has been marinating in the sun for a week...I still would never even consider trading him in. He is my sweet little blue-eyed troublemaker and I'm loving (almost) every minute of it.

"For a long time, there were only
your footprints and laughter
in our dreams;
and even from such small things,
we knew we could not wait
to love you forever."

November 18, 2010

My Daughter's Purse

It is always a bittersweet time when you see your children mature before your eyes. Recently, I've had the pleasure of watching my daughter display some very instinctual woman behavior, one so deeply ingrained in our history that many of us don't even acknowledge it. I'm not talking about a woman's natural compassion for others or our predisposition to the "caretaker" role. I'm not talking about a maternal instinct, an inborn cooking ability (which clearly skipped me anyway), or the desire to please the men-folk.

I'm talking about the tendency to put crap in our purses.

I'd like to submit a photo into evidence. I had to wait until my miniature hoarder had gone to bed so as not to upset her by going through her purse, but once I had established that she was, indeed, asleep, I laid out all the contents. Let's examine them one by one, shall we?
1. This goes back and forth between being a simple bouncy orange ball to being a fruit snack. Either way, it would come in handy in that long line at the post office.

2. This hot pink bracelet goes with every.single.outfit. How is that not full of win?

3. Got Milk? Sure do! We plan ahead in our family.

4. The circus elephant threw me for a loop, I won't lie.

5. A cup, useful for everything from storing your before-mentioned fruit snack in to pouring a glass of delicious milk. Oh, and sometimes it's a hat.

6. Ah, the number 3. This poor foam letter has more bites in it than a lame vampire novel and yet it's still hanging in there.

7. Johnny's skateboard, because the guy has to get around SOMEHOW.

8. A fork, always a good idea. You just never know where those ones at the restaurant have been.... Though I'm not sure I really know where this one has been, either. Hmm.

9. I'd like to claim that my daughter uses this to whip out mathematical equations in her free time, but really - she thinks it's a phone. Don't go and ruin it, ok?

10. A big thanks to Uncle Eli on this one. This is also a "phone", however, this phone only calls Mr. T. My daughter now uses such phrases as "Don't gimme no backtalk, sucka" and "Whaachoo talkin' 'bout, fool?"

11. She claims these glass are stylish, however I have my reservations.

12. This is Joe. He was discovered in the same mystery toy pile that produced Johnny, but Joe is more like the annoying little brother who always tags along.

13. It's a plate. It's makeup. It's a clock. It's Johnny's chair.

14. Typically, these are used in some sort of medical fashion. The blue one with the notch out can often be found shoved up someone's nose or measuring their ears during a checkup. The small orange one detects your heartbeat. Don't worry - everyone is safe when Dr. Lainey and her Magical Mystery Purse are present.

15. RAAWR! What? The girl likes dinosaurs.

16. The brush I find rather ironic, considering that 80% of the time she acts like having her hair brushed is the equivalent to having hot pokers shoved into her eye socket. She does, however, like to brush Owen's hair, which takes all of 2.7 seconds so I guess it has a use after all.

17. Anyone caught without one of these in their purse should be thrown in jail.

18. Johnny. Duh.

19. Hello Kitty bracelet. Let it be known that this has never actually been used *AS* a bracelet. Usually she tries to barter with it like money.

20. A Hostess treat, in the plastic form. Always useful in thwarting those snack attacks.

21. This is a birthday cake. Never try and correct that, let's get that straight first of all. Also, those are not nuts - they are candles. You are allowed to blow the candles out as she sings you happy birthday, and then you will never see the cake again.

22. This is traditionally how the cake is served, via measuring cup. Sometimes, though, it dispenses medicine. I truly love things that are multi-functional.

23. Lipstick. Occasionally, it's eye shadow, but you have to watch it with that one - she's a little aggressive.

There were also two Cheerios half stuck to the inside, however I was unsure how long they had been condemned to the bottom of the purse so they now live in the garbage can.

November 7, 2010

It's Begining to Look a Lot Like Christmas

In an effort to keep this blog on the lighter side I won't go into my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad Halloween. For the first time in my 28 years of existence, I was quite happy to see that holiday come to a close. That did not mean, however, that I was prepared for what I would see the very next day.

I came home from work that evening, tired and anxious for a couple days' respite, and sat down in the dining room for a late dinner. Something I took a moment to analyze the room when what, to my wondering eyes should appear, but a Christmas tree sitting cozily in the corner. On November 1st. A FREAKIN' CHRISTMAS TREE!

I like Christmas, don't get me wrong. 'Tis the season, holly jolly and all of that, sure. But I just don't transition from spiders to Santas that quickly. I need time to rummage through the bags of clearanced Halloween candy, to get out my oversized fleece sweatshirts and my ridiculous cocoa mugs, and to indulge my inner fat kid on turkey and mashed potatoes. They aren't even selling egg nog yet, for crying out loud! They are, actually, already selling cartons of the delicious artery-blocking syrup. Right next to the leftover SweetTarts, no doubt.

I continued to stare at the tree, mesmorized by the 12 strands of colored lights that now glowed thanks to my husband's impatience and holiday enthusiasm. I looked at him, confused that somehow I may have dozed off and slept through the rest of November. Reading my confusion he offered "At least I waited until after Halloween...", as if the mere act of waiting was the equivalent of being beaten with a tree limb or having to give up the last Oreo.

He has been making pumpkin pies in a continuous stream now for about three weeks, so I should have seen this coming. We have boxes of ornaments and decorations enough for two houses, most of which end up out all at once. One by one I take some down and redistribute them until we have an tolerable number of singing Christmas trees and bell-ringing thingamajigs. And not only do we have all of the kid's gifts purchased (thanks Swagbucks!), but he has already assembled the toys in preparation for Christmas morning. I won't lie, I find that quite adorable. His desire to create some wonderful holiday memories with our kids is contagious, and seeing the kids squeal (and drool) in delight over the same miniature train that we've watched 29382948 times already this week does sort of warm my heart - even if it is about three weeks early.

So here's to 48 more days of Christmas music, twinkling lights, and tinsel-coated cat puke. If I disappear between now and then, I'm likely in an egg-nog induced coma.

PS, I hope I didn't ruin your manly image, honey. I know that, should the day ever come, Christmas decorations would take a back seat to a good 49ers game on TV.

November 3, 2010

Reason I Love Being a Mom #14

Reason I Love Being a Mom #14: Having my daughter tell me during bathtime that she needed to wash the "pirates". I played along, asking if we needed to clean their pet parrot, too. She looked at me as if I were insane, grabbed the bar of soap, and proceeded to wash her nether region. Arrr matey, it's PRIVATES, not pirates...